


A Touch of Discretion

by ExaltedBrand



Series: March 2021 Promptathon [6]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Church Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, Ficlet, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Quiet Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29877804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExaltedBrand/pseuds/ExaltedBrand
Summary: During morning service, Catherine puts Shamir through a gruelling test of her talents.
Relationships: Catherine/Shamir Nevrand
Series: March 2021 Promptathon [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188869
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	A Touch of Discretion

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt: Shamir/Catherine, Concealed Public Sex**

After so many years in her line of work, Shamir was well-accustomed to keeping quiet. Silence was a constant necessity, for the slightest sound could compromise an entire mission – whether by sending a timid target running or by drawing more attention than she could handle discreetly. And while few assignments ever went off perfectly—irregularities, such as changes in patrol routes, could still startle her into making the odd mistake—she’d come to take a certain quiet pride in her professionalism and her composure on the job.

Pride, of course, could be a dangerous thing. Pride implied a sense of superiority, and superiority invited challenge; and unfortunately, as Shamir knew all too well, there were few people in the Knights of Seiros more eager to issue challenges—no matter how mundane the subject, or how irrelevant it was to the task at hand—as Catherine.

To her credit, at least, she knew how to make such challenges interesting – and how to push people to their absolute limits.

Certainly, as she was, Shamir was finding it incredibly difficult to maintain her usual silence.

“N-ngh…” she grunted, biting down hard on her lip to stifle much louder sounds. “C-Cath—ah…!”

The morning congregation, led by Rhea, was one of the few times the entire monastery—church and soldiers and students alike—was assembled under one roof, filling the cathedral with a crowd to rival the busiest city centres.

Accordingly, Catherine had clearly thought it the perfect place to put Shamir’s talents to the ultimate kind of test – shoving her up against one of the thick stone archways lining the sides of the hall, just out of sight of the crowd, and with only the distant sound of one of Seteth’s low, droning sermons to mask what they were doing.

It was maddening, really. Shamir had spent so much time practicing with a bow, working day and night to perfect her technique – and yet Catherine’s fingers, shoved down her leggings from behind and pushing deep inside her in such rough, rugged motions, somehow seemed in that moment a dozen times defter than her own.

“Come on, Shamir,” Catherine whispered, pumping into her tight, wet slit with the very same strength she showed on the battlefield. “How are you going to serve Lady Rhea if you can’t stay quiet under pressure, huh…? It could be a fatal mistake, you know…”

Shamir wanted nothing more than to bite back with some cutting words of her own, but the sheer power of Catherine’s fingers, burying up to her knuckles with each powerful thrust, drove every last syllable out of her mind; and she could only manage a few muffled moans of protest as the knight’s body pressed more insistently into her own, kissing her neck while continuing to work so diligently between her legs.

And when she felt Catherine’s hot tongue on her skin, drawing a coarse line up to her jaw, she couldn’t help but let out a high, sharp whine. It had almost cut through the silence, and she was sure now that _someone_ must have heard them, whether a student or a guard – even as Seteth’s voice continued to fill the hall, as sonorous as ever.

She shuddered again as Catherine’s lips brushed against her ear, delicate in spite of everything else about her.

“Careful, now. It’s a sin to make noise during the sermon…”

She couldn’t believe that Catherine had chosen now, of all times, to finally discover her indoor voice. Now, when even the tiniest noise held so much weight. Now, when she was so committed to testing Shamir’s willpower. Now, when she was fucking her with such force and ferocity that to have pushed any harder would have risked breaking her altogether. If they were discovered, Shamir knew it would have been her own fault entirely – and the thought infuriated her as much as it delighted her.

The feeling of it all—of how Catherine took her and used her, teasing and tormenting her, breaking down her resolve with every forceful thrust and driving her towards ever more dangerous heights—was almost too much for her to bear, let alone conceal. She grit her teeth and pursed her lips, and somehow managed to swallow all the noises threatening to escape her throat – but her legs shook violently, and her fingernails dug desperately into the stone, and she couldn’t help but let out a silent, strangled cry as Catherine’s fingers moved with overwhelming strength, keeping her legs parted and bent in her grip.

Again, she could hear the sermon; could hear Rhea’s voice, now, echoing throughout the halls, sweet and serene and laced with something Shamir had never quite learned to trust. For a moment—a long moment, far too long for comfort—Rhea fell silent, as if contemplating some point or scanning the many assembled faces – and Catherine, without a hint of regard for the crowd gathered so close by, took the opportunity to shove her fingers into Shamir as hard and fast as she could, grinding her palm against her clit and ravaging her in just the way she knew would drive the mercenary wild. Shamir squirmed and convulsed, clenching her teeth together and biting down on a groan of sheer, desperate need – but when Catherine crooked her fingers in one last thrust, finally hitting that perfect spot, she couldn’t hold back any longer.

In that instant—as Rhea continued her speech, ending the silence and recapturing the assembly’s attention—Shamir’s entire body seized up, and she came hard against the heel of the knight’s hand, wracked with sensations she could neither control nor contain. Her knees buckled, and she could barely keep herself from collapsing onto the stone tiles – but Catherine was there for her, keeping her on her feet and supporting her as she rested her head against the stone.

Then, Catherine was grinning. Grinning in her usual, stupid way that Shamir had never known how to resist.

“Not bad, partner,” she whispered. “Not bad at all.”


End file.
